I have just realized that the stakes are myself I have no other ransom money, nothing to break or barter but my life
Diane di PrimaIn the fiftiesโฆ we were so busy being cool that we didnโt know how to say the word love
Diane di PrimaMore or Less Love Poems #11: No babe We'd never Swing together but the syncopation would be something wild
Diane di PrimaMaketa Groves has a strong, bright lyric gift. Her poems come out of music and are full of music. They bring us the sounds of the streets and the sounds of nature, and make us see once again that they are parts of the same song. She celebrates American lives as they are lived today: the mother scrubbing her kitchen floor at midnight, the drag-queens in the Tenderloin, the homeless woman knitting in the courtyard. This is poetry that relentlessly shows us the beauty in the world, with all its struggles and complexity, and demands that we go out to meet it with open hearts.
Diane di PrimaSweetheart, when you break thru you'll find a poet here, not quite what one would choose.
Diane di PrimaIt is still news to her that passion could steer her wrong though she went down, a thousand times strung out across railroad tracks, off bridges under cars, or stiff glass bottle still in hand, hair soft on greasy pillows, still it is news she cannot follow love (his burning footsteps in blue crystal snow) & still come out all right.
Diane di PrimaI think the poet is the last person who is still speaking the truth when no one else dares to. I think the poet is the first person to begin the shaping and visioning of the new forms and the new consciousness when no one else has begun to sense it; I think these are two of the most essential human functions.
Diane di Prima